


Comfort

by LeoArcana



Series: Prompts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel's Trenchcoat, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4701044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is injured on a hunt and prays for someone to come help take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Dean’s sitting on the counter his bathroom, working on putting stitches in a deep laceration on his thigh; courtesy of a wendigo.  So far, he’s got five stitches done and at least four more to go.  He doesn’t place them as close together as a doctor would, he never has.  He doesn’t like the feeling of putting them in or taking them out.  Realistically, he should probably have closer to twenty stitches in this cut. 

He pursues his lips and swallows down a whimper; not at the stitches, but at the sharp pain of two broken ribs protesting every little movement he makes.  He hurries the last of the stitches for that cut and starts in on the one parallel to it.  There’s two more parallel ones after that for that set of claw marks.  There’s two more sets on his forearm, though those are smaller and less deep.  Only three cuts on his shoulder, and a single one going from just above his left eye down to his left ear, having just missing his eyeball.  Not to mention a dozen splotches of bruises that are making the whole stitching process just that much worse.

Sam fared better, he didn’t need any stitches or have any broken bones.  But Dean did have to pop his shoulder back into place.  He’s down the hall in his own room now, probably sleeping with ice packs; Dean said he didn’t need help.

Of course, that was a lie.  He would really much rather be laying flat and not disturbing his ribs while someone else patched him up.  He’d prayed to Castiel to come help, but because of the borrowed grace, he knew Castiel couldn’t just poof on over to the bunker.  He’s not sure how far off Castiel is, but he can’t just leave his injuries be. 

Dean gingerly wiped at the wound, placed a gauze pad and lifted his leg to wrap surgical tape around his leg to keep it in place.  Sharp pain shoots through his chest again, stabbing along every nerve like a white hot needle.  He’s had his ribs broken before, and more of them broken at one time, but it seems to hurt more than the last time.  Dean grumbles incoherently to himself, chalking it up to getting old and debating whether or not the rest of the cuts need stitches. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when he turns to grab another string and needle.  He grits his teeth and takes a second to hold his ribs, waiting for the pain to dull just a little bit.  He slowly lets his breath out and grabs the needle again.  He’s glad he and Sam managed to get medical grade sutures that come pre-threaded on needles.  His hands are starting to shake and threading a needle now like he used to would be near impossible.  He pushes the needle through the skin of his forearm and pulls the stitch through, but pauses when he thinks he hears something.

There’s a tiny glimmer of hope that it’s Castiel, but he doesn’t hear Castiel calling to find out where in the bunker he is and there’s no message on his phone.  He sighs and goes back to his task, getting two stitches done before he hears another noise.  This time it’s closer and he waits for a follow up sound.  He hears his bedroom door creak open and hopes and prays it’s Castiel, not Sam.  There’s two swift footsteps before the bathroom door is nearly flung open.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked.

“I’ve, uh…been better,” Dean manages.

Castiel crosses the small bathroom, stepping over Dean’s discarded clothes on the floor which reminds him he’s sitting there in only his boxers.  It’s nothing Castiel hasn’t seen before, but it is still a little embarrassing.  Castiel pushes on Dean’s shoulder to make him sit up-right and Dean clenches his jaw at the pain as he tries to go with it.  Castiel stops and pulls his hand back just a bit, studying Dean’s face with worry.

“Your ribs are broken,” Castiel notes.

“Yeah, I figured that out already,” Dean grunts.

Castiel scowls and his and goes to touch his fingers to his forehead to heal him, but Dean bats his hand away.

“It’s nothin’ worth angel mojo, not like I got anything serious,” Dean dismissed.

“You have internal bleeding,” Castiel deadpans.

Dean stares at him for a second because of course he does.  He hangs his head with a sigh, knowing that isn’t something he can fix on his own and looks up at Castiel again.

“Alright, fine.  But just that,” Dean warns.

Castiel nods once and touches his forehead, mindful of the cut there.  Dean lets out a content breath at the warm feeling of grace coursing through his body.  It focuses on a spot near the broken ribs and he can feel his ribs being moved.  He’s about to snap at Castiel for tricking him into letting him heal the bones, but when he doesn’t feel them being pulled back into place, he swallows his words. 

“Your ribs tore muscles fibers,” Castiel said, “Each movement was worsening that.”

Castiel lowers his hand and Dean could almost cry at the retreat of the warmth of grace.  The pain was quick to come back, but he does feel noticeably better.  He’s too busy gauging his pain level now to notice that Castiel has taken the needle from his hands and it’s not until he feels his skin tug that he does realize it. 

He lets Castiel work on his arm and watches as he places the stitches.  He places them closer together, the way they should be.  Castiel then decides that a couple other cuts need stitches and quickly does them.  There’s no more suture packs for Dean’s forehead, but there are butterfly bandages.  It’ll have to work. Dean shivers and Castiel mistakes it for being cold, though he isn’t completely wrong.  The bathroom isn’t particularly warm.  He shrugs off his trenchcoat and throws it over Dean’s shoulders.  Dean grabs the lapels of the coat and hugs it tighter as Castiel wipes his face clean.  Castiel puts the butterfly bandages on, rubbing over them to make sure they stay put and then sliding his hand down the side of Dean’s face, feeling a tinge of sadness as Dean leans into the touch.

Castiel lets his hand fall to Dean’s elbow, quietly prompting Dean to hop off the counter.  Dean moves slowly, one arm going to hold his ribs while Castiel holds the other to help keep him steady.  He doesn’t let go of Dean’s arm, even as he tries to stand up straight; which he can’t.  He remains hunched forward a bit and drags his feet as he starts towards his bed.

When they get close, Castiel lets go of him to go ahead and throw the blankets back.  Dean’s judgement lapses for a second and he lets himself flop down on the bed out of habit.  Dean tries to stifle a shout of pain and anger through his teeth and Castiel is immediately at his side with a healing touch.  Dean quiets down to heavy, controlled breathing and he wants to glare at Castiel for using his grace, but he can’t find it in him to give him anything more than a tired look.

With the grace alleviating pain, Dean takes the opportunity to roll over into a more comfortable sleeping position.  He curls up on his side, moving Castiel’s trenchcoat around to better cover him and clutching it tight as he drifts off to sleep.  Dean shifts, but settles with a content sigh, burying his face in the trenchcoat and breathing deep.

Castiel waits a moment to make sure Dean is sound asleep before placing his hand over Dean’s broken ribs and letting his grace flow through to mend them.  He might be upset with him later, but he’s not going to let his hunter suffer unnecessarily. 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this kinda quick because i'm still pooped from VanCon but i saw this prompt on facebook and wanted to do it. there's other prompts that went with it involving cas' trenchcoat so i might do those later after i update [Dire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1924422/chapters/4153644)


End file.
